


A Traitor with the Rest

by pollybywater



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-06
Updated: 2004-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollybywater/pseuds/pollybywater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully witnesses something that rocks her world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Traitor with the Rest

  
_Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see:  
And yet salt water blinds them not so much  
But they can see a sort of traitors here.  
Nay, if I turn my eyes upon myself,  
I find myself a traitor with the rest._

 _-Shakespeare, Richard II_

  
Shit. Damn. Hell.

Dana Scully wasn't usually given to cursing- in fact, there was only one subject that reliably, consistently, brought expletives to mind, and that, of course, was Mulder. Rarely a day went by when she didn't think curses at Mulder, even if she managed to keep them inside her head, for the most part.

Today was no different. Sunday afternoon, and it should have been her well-earned day of rest, except that she hadn't heard from Mulder since they'd left the office Friday afternoon, and he wasn't answering his phone. Not his cell phone, nor his home phone, which, given Mulder's tendency to hare off on some lunatic venture without bothering to advise her first, led Scully to believe he was somewhere knee deep in disaster.

Probably needing her help.

Damn it all. She'd believed, after everything that happened at Wiekamp a few weeks ago, that Mulder had finally stopped running off without her. Finally accepted her as an equal partner, his colleague as much as his friend.

She should have known. Sometimes she thought Mulder had a seriously self-destructive streak to go along with his impulse control problem.

Scully parked her car and went inside Mulder's apartment building, absently noting the need for a fresh paint job on the walls. The long hall was absolutely featureless, almost institutional, always depressing.

As she raised her hand to knock, she heard a muffled noise from inside that had her drawing her weapon in a smooth rush of motion. With her other hand, she silently sorted through her keys, isolating the one that fit Mulder's door, sliding it into the lock and turning it with infinite, soundless care. Opening the door cautiously, as she'd been trained, Scully heard noises again, still distant somehow, but now embarrassingly recognizable.

Moans. And yes, almost a whimper, there. And nothing- *nothing* -that sounded like pain. At least, not the kind that resulted from physical injury.

Frustration, maybe.

I'll be good and God damned, Scully found herself thinking, shocked into a phrase that her dad had occasionally used. Mulder's having sex, and since he's not on the couch in front of the VCR, he must be having it *with* somebody!

She was suddenly so curious she couldn't stand it. So curious, in fact, that it felt like her brain was on fire. She needed to know just what type of woman appealed to Fox Mulder physically, particularly since it didn't seem to be the petite, red-haired, blue-eyed kind.

Another muffled moan from behind a half-closed door just down the hall from the bathroom, and Mulder apparently *did* have a bedroom.

Who knew?

Fascinated, Scully set her purse and her gun down, then crept closer; close enough to hear Mulder's voice, low and husky, words not quite intelligible, the tone like nothing she'd ever heard from Mulder before. It shivered over her spine like a fingertip stroke, gathering heat at the small of her back, making her feel impatient to *see* what was going on.

Feeling very daring, she peered through the door, only to be frustrated when all she could see was piles of boxes, stacked six deep just inside the door. Scully rubbed her face exasperatedly, wondering again what kind of loser would permit Mulder to inflict his idea of housekeeping on her. A prostitute, maybe?

Probably.

Jesus, Mulder.

A narrow canyon in Mulder's cardboard mountains led to what she assumed was the source of the noises she could still hear. She silently wove her way through the maze, pausing when she realized she could now recognize words mixed in with moaning.

Mulder's words... and what words! If she hadn't been so utterly familiar with Mulder's voice, she would never have believed her ears. Never have believed what was coming out of her partner's mouth.

"Oh, yeah. Fucking beautiful slut. Suck me- God! Yes, baby, just like that- God, your mouth! So hot! Love that- love your mouth, so good, so good to me, such a good cocksucker. No, no, baby, not yet- don't let me. Don't make me. Wanna wait, make it last, love you all day long. Could fuck your mouth all day, all night."

This was answered by a humming moan and a distinctive, wet, slurping sound that couldn't be mistaken for anything other than what it was.

To Scully's distant shock, she felt her skin prickle and her nipples grow tight, joining an ache in her pelvis that threatened to bring her to her knees as she listened shamelessly... and Mulder, damn him, never shut up. She should have known.

"Ah, shit, yeah, lick me, baby. Put your fingers up my ass and get me ready. Just like that. God, you've got the sweetest mouth, wanna pour myself down your throat, so fucking beautiful. Wanna fuck you, fuck your mouth, want you to fuck me, come all over you, mark you- Mine, you're mine, oh yeah, please Godyeslovenow! Oh! OH!"

A hard thump of *want* slugged her deep in her gut as she heard Mulder's voice hit a note she wouldn't have believed he could reach, along with a definite growl of satisfaction from his bed partner, and it took her a moment to assimilate what she'd heard.

A *growl*. 'Fuck me'. Oh, hold the phone! Mulder was with a *man*! No wonder he he'd never made a serious move on *her*, Scully realized almost peripherally as that overwhelming curiosity grabbed her again. Then another voice spoke, a raspy, almost harsh *male* voice, and she had to bite down on her own fist to keep *herself* from moaning at the unknown man's incendiary words.

"Taste yourself, Fox. You taste so good."

Oh, God, oh, God, I bet he does, she thought a bit wildly over the soft kissing noises a few short feet away. Damn it all, I have to *see* this! And who the hell is Mulder with that would call him *Fox*, for that matter?

Crouching a bit, Scully virtually scuttled until she could finally see the mirror on Mulder's dresser, which conveniently – and graphically - reflected a full side view of the two men on the bed... and once again, she had to cram her fist in her mouth to stifle her reaction.

Jesus Fucking Christ. Mulder was fucking Alex Fucking Krycek. Or not, she realized dimly as her head spun in a dizzying mixture of nausea, lust, rage, and shock. If she believed the evidence of her own eyes, then Alex Fucking Krycek was fucking Mulder. Actually, who was fucking whom when the penetratee was on top of the penetrator?

She closed her eyes, sucked in a silent, steadying breath of air, and forced herself to look again, with a more objective view.

Mulder was slowly lowering himself onto Krycek's cock, and she guessed she should have known if Mulder was going to be gay he would have to be a size queen and this certainly wasn't the *first* time they'd done this and God Almighty but they were beautiful together and NO she did not just think that – but it was true. The dust-hazed golden sunlight poured through the windows and spilled over their skin, illuminating the ripple of muscle and the fine line of bone, turning them into a living erotic sculpture; bodies just similar enough to be symmetrical, yet with sufficient contrast to delight the eye.

Krycek hissed something she didn't understand and Mulder froze, both of them staring into each other's eyes, until Mulder saw whatever it was he needed to see and took Krycek fully inside.

Jesus. And Krycek looked like an angel in paradise with that expression of sublime bliss on his face. Mulder seemed to agree, anyway, judging from the way his hands framed Krycek's face, thumbs brushing over those high cheekbones. He waited, apparently until Krycek's hips made an abortive upwards thrust that was impeded by the squeeze of Mulder's muscled thighs.

"Talk to me, Alexei. Tell me what you want."

What was this?

Scully crept a bit closer and knelt; near enough now to hear the genuine whine in Krycek's voice when he answered.

"Fox. You know I can't- please, baby, move?"

"I want to hear you say it, Alex. I want to hear the words," Mulder murmured, his hands sliding along Krycek's arms to entwine their fingers. "Tell me how I feel. Tell me what you feel. Please, Alexei, do this for me."

"God, you're fucking relentless. You know that," Krycek said in an exasperated voice, and Mulder smiled at him, the kind of smile Scully had rarely seen on her partner's face, relaxed and joyous.

"Hey, you said 'fucking'! Come on, baby. Tell me more," Mulder coaxed, and to Scully's shock, Krycek smiled back, beautifully.

It was at that point that Scully recognized that a) they were using not just first names but *endearments* with each other, and b) whatever was between the two of them was far from casual in nature.

It was an observation that stunned her, and it took her a moment to realize Krycek was speaking, his voice low, husky, and pure aural sex.

"Fox, baby, your ass feels like heaven, so slick and so tight and so hot around my cock. Love you riding me. Love fucking you, love being fucked by you, fucking love you, Fox."

"Alex," Mulder whispered, closing his eyes and leaning forward until his forehead rested against Krycek's. He mumbled something against Krycek's lips that Scully could not hear, but she was suspiciously certain it was 'I love you too', especially when they started kissing again; deep, devouring open-mouthed kisses that occasionally revealed a glimpse of a searching tongue, accompanied with gasping sighs and moans.

Mulder started moving, as if he couldn't bear to be still a moment longer, his legs flexing and moving his ass up and down on Krycek's cock. That Krycek appreciated this was obvious in the way his hips rocked to meet Mulder's, those long, drugging kisses interrupted by increasingly labored breathing. Mulder lifted his upper body, and something in the change of angle must have felt spectacularly good, if his groaning "ohGodyesAlexrightthere" was any indication.

Their hands separated, and Krycek reached between their bodies. Scully couldn't restrain a gasp as those long fingers wrapped around Mulder's plump blood-dark cock, but the low wail Mulder gave drowned out her lapse. Her clit felt so swollen she couldn't resist squirming her thighs together, then Krycek started talking again and she had to slide her own hand inside her pants and rub.

Had to.

"So hard for me, baby. Wanna watch you shoot, watch you come all over me, wanna feel it from the inside, Fox- God, baby, now!"

She watched just long enough to see Mulder's come begin to spurt, then had to close her eyes as her own climax shuddered through her, nearly biting through her bottom lip in an effort to hold back a cry – not that either man would have heard her over the twin roars that heralded their satisfaction.

Oh, God, she was going straight to hell... so it was a good thing she'd enjoyed the trip, Scully decided with a silent, giddy laugh. She pulled her fingers out of her slacks and sniffed at them appreciatively, then turned her attention towards whatever Mulder and Krycek were doing now.

They were lying in each other's arms, kissing again, hands stroking tenderly over sweat-slick skin. She was sure she would find the fact that Mulder and Krycek were apparently in love quite mind-boggling, as soon as her own post-orgasmic glow faded. As it was, she was hard put not to break down in a fit of the giggles, especially when Krycek – with an amazing degree of what sounded like sincere diffidence – asked Mulder "was that dirty enough for you?"

"Perfect, baby. Thank you," Mulder replied with a lazy grin. "I knew you could do it."

Krycek rolled his eyes and pinched Mulder's ass, but Scully was taken aback to see the younger man actually blush.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"If I didn't know you loved me, I'd be offended, Fox. First, you complain because I don't make enough noise in bed, then you want actual words from me, then you're complaining because I don't talk dirty enough. Where will it end?" Krycek was plainly teasing, but Mulder's hand went to his jaw and drew their eyes together.

"It'll never end if I've got anything to say about it," Mulder said seriously, and Krycek smiled at him a little half-heartedly.

"What do you think is going to happen when Scully and Skinner find out?"

"Scully will understand," Mulder said next, confidently. Scully felt her eyes sting in response to that obvious faith, and hoped she could live up to it. Krycek sighed and shook his head.

"You are naked and you are not in your right mind. Scully will shoot me and have you committed... or deprogrammed."

"Can't be done. Deprogramming is an ineffective technique against the teachings of the cult of Alex. I thought you knew," Mulder said with a lopsided grin that Krycek apparently took as an invitation to kiss away; tiny little lapping tastes that both men eventually sank into with paired sighs.

Scully shook her head, and wondered if she'd ever seen any two people so much in love. Their behavior was so sappy it was almost sickening – would have been, if it weren't also so overwhelmingly sweet.

As her mind cleared to its usual sharp performance level, she had to ask herself how she was going to handle this. If she'd found out any other way, from Mulder's own lips, for example, she would never have believed that Alex Krycek was genuine about his feelings... but having spied on them together, undetected, she had to accept the evidence of her own eyes and ears.

It was still fucking unbelievable, though. Mulder involved in a gay love affair with *Krycek*? She couldn't have been more astonished had she caught Mulder in bed with Louis Freeh.

"You still going to help me move some of these boxes down to the basement?" Mulder asked hopefully. Scully knew she should take that as her cue to sneak out, but she couldn't bear to stop watching them yet. She excused this to herself by deciding she was still evaluating the situation.

Yeah, that was it.

Krycek lifted one skeptical eyebrow.

"Hmm. I don't think manual labor is an approved activity in my cult," Krycek said, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful air.

"Asshole," Mulder said fondly. "What *is* approved? Besides lots of hot sex and the mandatory review of DOT statistics, that is."

She couldn't see what Krycek did, but Mulder let out a whoop and started giggling- well, she supposed that being a man, he'd hate to hear her call it giggling, but that's what it was. Mulder quickly retaliated; a brief tussle that tickled husky laughter out of Krycek.

Remembering the many times she'd seen Mulder intent on hurting Krycek, Scully had to shake her head in wonder. She wished she knew how they'd managed to turn things around between them so radically, and knew it was a story she'd never hear if she couldn't make peace with their relationship. Besides, if they made each other *that* happy, if Krycek could make *Mulder* that happy, she was going to *have* to find a way to deal, Scully thought, distracted when Krycek rolled Mulder over and pinned his hands to the mattress.

Hot damn, Krycek had a fine ass.

"Torture isn't an approved activity either," Krycek said in a prim little tone that had Mulder rolling his eyes derisively. "It's not in my commandments."

"Fine, fine. No torture. What are your commandments, then?"

"There's just one," Krycek said, and gave his hips a little grind that had Mulder stifling a gasp. "Thou shalt love thy Fox above all other things."

"Ohh. That's so nice. That mean you're gonna help with the boxes?"

"Like I said, fucking relentless. Yes, I'm gonna help you with the damned boxes. Later."

"You have too much faith in my stamina, baby. The well is dry. And no jokes about my advanced age," Mulder ordered with a grin that Krycek quickly returned.

"Would I do that?" Krycek lowered his mouth to Mulder's, licking across Mulder's lower lip. "Just wanna feel your skin," he added rather hoarsely. "Soak you up. Wanna remember how this feels..."

"Alexei."

A long kiss then, which in Scully's eyes seemed to be fueled by the kind of desperate emotion she associated with sending a loved one off to war. When it was over, Krycek tucked his face against Mulder's neck and seemed to breathe him in; imprinting, Scully distantly realized.

"Baby, this isn't the last time we're going to be like this. I promise you," Mulder said, the words audible despite being spoken into the top of Krycek's head.

Krycek sighed.

"Fox, tomorrow isn't promised to any of us."

"That's true, but that's not what this is about, Alex, and you know it. You don't trust me- don't trust *us*. I know you're afraid I'm going to get up one morning and go back to hitting you- hating you. What do I have to do to make you believe in us?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just tell me what I can do."

"I don't know," Krycek almost snapped, pulling away from Mulder so suddenly that Scully almost jumped. She frowned as she watched the younger man turn his back towards Mulder - Mulder couldn't see Krycek's face, but she could, thanks to the dresser mirror - and Krycek looked... miserable; eyes too shiny to be entirely dry.

"Neither one of us knows how to be happy," Mulder said on his own sigh, sitting up and sliding in behind Krycek, his arms going around Krycek's waist. "I just don't want you to be *scared*, Alex."

"I'm not-" Krycek cut himself off, blushed, then gave a self-conscious shrug, his eyes meeting Mulder's in the mirror. Scully froze, hoping against hope that their attentions were so focused on each other that her reflected presence behind the boxes would remain unnoticed. Probably a vain hope, but she was clinging to it.

She couldn't imagine that Krycek would take her sudden appearance too well. Amazingly enough, she didn't want to make things more difficult for either him or Mulder. Their current discussion had the tone of a disagreement that was being revisited, and not for the first time.

To her relief, Krycek twisted about to look at Mulder directly, all that lovely color fading to leave his skin porcelain pale.

"I can't lie to you, Fox. I *am* scared. Scared of losing you. I never had anything to lose before, except my life, and that hasn't been worth much to me for a long time. If I lost you now I think I'd- I don't know if I could stay sane." Krycek's voice took on an almost dreamy timbre, his eyes fixed on Mulder's. "I think I'd have to burn the world down."

Mulder's hand on Krycek's jaw drew their mouths together, and Scully had to admit to herself that some of what she was feeling was pure, unadulterated envy... particularly when Mulder bore Krycek down onto the mattress, their bodies moving together in a well-rehearsed rhythm.

Mulder tore his mouth off Krycek's in order to stare into those glittering eyes.

"You won't lose me. I won't lose you. Are you listening, Alexei? I don't care what the old men throw at us, I don't care what Scully or Skinner says. I won't let anything come between us. Not now, not ever. You're mine."

"Yours," Krycek swore raggedly, loosing an inarticulate groan when Mulder's mouth closed on his throat.

Oh, Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the saints. Where the earlier sex had been playful, loving, and warm, this was- this was pure heat, and what she'd always imagined sex between men would be like. Rough, almost brutal; careless in the sense that it didn't seem to matter if fingernails dug into skin a little too hard, or hands gripped a little too tightly. Almost savage, as Mulder forcibly turned Krycek face down, moving between his legs with intent. Krycek was far from unwilling, pushing his ass into Mulder's groin. Mulder growled, then reached underneath a pillow for something Scully could not see due to the changed angle, but assumed was lube given the position of Mulder's hand.

Had she not watched them earlier and heard what they'd said to each other, she might have been tempted to stop Mulder. She certainly would have assumed that Mulder was hurting Krycek or violating him in some way. Instead, however, she saw their behavior as elemental as a summer thunderstorm, and she could appreciate this for what it was: two men fighting to claim each other, marking each other body and soul.

Krycek cried out when Mulder slammed into him, something - in Russian? - that sounded desperately demanding. In a move that made Scully's pelvis ache emptily, Mulder drew Krycek up, back to chest, and sank his teeth in the back of Krycek's neck... and Krycek wailed, bucking into Mulder's touch. They fucked like animals, furious and wild, grunts and moans sounding a call and response that moved through her with startling power.

Scully closed her eyes and backed away, refusing to look further. This was too private, and she wished uselessly that she'd never seen any of it. Mulder's shouted "Mine!" was echoed by Krycek's "God, Fox!" Long minutes of breathless panting followed before either man spoke again.

"we still moving those damned boxes?"

"fuck no. sleep."

"good."

Grinning in spite of herself, Scully slipped out of the bedroom the same way she'd slipped in, retrieving her belongings along the way. She was at the door when her cell phone rang inside her purse and nearly startled her into yelping.

Shit, hell, and damn.

Mind working as quickly as possible under the circumstances, she pulled the door open silently and then closed it audibly, calling out as she did.

"Mulder? Mulder!"

With any luck, Mulder would think she'd just walked in as the phone started ringing.

There was a rather loud thump from the bedroom, and Scully had to bite her already sore lower lip to keep from laughing out loud, wishing she could see the looks on their faces.

"Mulder?"

"Just a minute, Scully! I'll be right out! I- I'm... not dressed!" Mulder shouted as she finally got around to muting her phone's ringtones, something she should have done earlier, she thought with a grimace. Her caller could leave voice mail.

"Uh, hi Scully, what brings you by?" Mulder walked through the bedroom door, which he closed behind him, and Scully's serious mien was tested yet again.

Dressed in sweatpants and a tee-shirt with his hair sticking up in fifteen different directions, what was presumably beard burn on one side of his neck that framed a definite hickey, his mouth swollen and reddened - Mulder was a posterboy for Sunday afternoon sex. Scully's lips twitched involuntarily but she controlled herself with a delicate cough.

"Mulder, I've been trying to call you all weekend. I got worried when you didn't answer either of your phones."

"Oh, that. Sorry. Well, I'm obviously fine, Scully, thank you. Was there something you wanted?" He walked towards her and took her arm, steering her towards the door. This near, she could smell the odor of sex rising off his skin in a headily potent cloud, and she could no longer restrain a smirk as he reached for the doorknob.

"In a hurry to get rid of me, Mulder?"

As if on cue, there was another thump from the bedroom. Mulder visibly winced, and Scully couldn't resist laughing.

She opened the door herself, pausing at the last minute to look Mulder in the eye. Still snickering, she steeled her nerve and patted him on the cheek.

"Go back to bed, Mulder. You can tell me all about it tomorrow... and maybe next weekend you and Alex can come over for dinner." She watched while his jaw dropped most satisfactorily, then sauntered down the long hall, leaving her dumbfounded partner behind.

Fate, destiny, and inextricable relationships. Melissa would have loved this.

End

6 Feb 2004


End file.
